Redemption
by VTME-kun
Summary: Yep. It's a story. Chapter 4 is up.
1. Intro part I

_** I have lived in these mountains for a little over ten years, without seeing another person once without my pair of dark sunglasses at the market a few miles down the road. Still, I often get a feeling as though I am being followed. I look over my shoulder, only to see my muted television screen flashing in the darkness, no one to be found. I cannot say if it is simply old habit, or that I truly long for human contact. Maybe I subconsciously want to be found, to put these ten years of hiding behind me and face what the justice system would find to be my proper punishment. It wouldn't be the first time in recent years that a former Pokémon league champion was sentenced for such serious crimes. I don't know their story, how they were caught, or if they were truly guilty, but I do know this: I **_**am**_** guilty. I know goddamn well my crime. The question has gnawed at my mind nearly every night in the past decade- "is it so wrong of me to be hiding?" Again taunted by this inquiry, I silently drift to sleep…**_

_**As I have become accustomed to in these past years, I am awoken early by the loud, scratchy yawn of my Arcanine. Puppy, as I'd called him since he was a young Growlithe, has grown old in these mountains along with me; his once crimson red coat now a faded tint. I, too, have not been spared the treatment of old age; my jet-black hair has receded and acquired streaks of grey. Whenever I hear Puppy's yawn, I remember back to when I first obtained him back at the age of twelve. I am now forty-five, Puppy thirty-four, and I am still reminded of the very first time he woke me up with his yawn. Though back then, it was much more powerful, energetic. His yawn, and his bark, has become lazy and tired.**_

_**After lying in bed for another good fifteen minutes, Puppy finally becomes annoyed and hops on me.**_

_**"Ow, Jesus Christ Puppy, what the hell are you trying to do?" I yell at my best friend. Puppy responds with a swift lick in the face.**_

_**I put on my favorite robe and head to my kitchen, also my living area. My log cabin is fairly small, as to avoid detection. Truth be told, I could easily buy a mansion to rival the biggest in the country. Money is no object to me, money obtained legally. But people would talk if a new gargantuan mansion were to be built in these secluded Johto Mountains and conspicuousness is just what I've been trying to avoid.**_

_**I turn on the TV and flip to the morning news, where the usual stories of murder, rape, armed robbery and Pokémon-related crimes grace the screen. Every morning, when these stories reach my ear, I stop and think of the way things used to be back when I was young. **_

_**Back then, though I didn't realize it until the world started to look the way it does now, life was a utopia. Newspapers and news programs on TV existed almost exclusively to report sports scores, recipes, politics and advertisements. On rare occasion, you would find a story highlighting the events of a teenager using his Pokémon to rob a convenience store for $37 and a box of gum, for example. These stories outraged the community. Crime just didn't happen back in those days. The era of Team Rocket's robberies and heists had ended some twenty years before I was even born, and new technologies and breakthroughs in security had prevented any of their followers from continuing their crimes.**_

_**I can remember paying a nickel for a newspaper at the small stand a block away from my house in New Bark Town. I would sit by the small lake separating the regions of Johto and Kanto on a rock and begin reading. What did I read? The only thing a young boy in those days would read, the sports section. And there was only one sport that interested me- Pokémon Battling. Each summer, the International Pokémon League Championships were held at the Indigo Plateau, Kanto. Trainers from all over the globe battled their hard-trained Pokémon against one another. In those days, Pokémon and Pokémon Trainers were friends, and their bond was unbreakable. The winning trainer would cry alongside his Pokémon to celebrate the hard-earned victory, and their place forever in the Hall of Fame. Nowadays, trainers collect Pokémon to battle, and that is all. **_

_**I always dreamed of traveling to the Indigo Stadium, and taking part in the opening ceremonies. Legend has it that the Pokémon League dated back to an ancient civilization far away. The patron God of their society, the legendary phoenix Moltres, provided the flame for the torch to light the tournament even in the night. The flame, as legend would have it, was said to last forever. Some believe that the flame that burns brightly every year is still of the same flame borne by Moltres those thousand years ago.**_

_**"That's amazing!" I would think to myself after hearing these stories. I was always one for legends. In fact, if the course of my life had turned out differently, I may have become a Pokémon historian. Even so, I never regret the events that have led up to my staying here. I may have fucked it all up in the end, but my decision was only a human one. I had one hell of a time in those twenty years, and I would do it all over again.**_

_**"Regret is wasted emotion", my grandfather used to say. It was my grandparents that got me involved with Pokémon. They ran a small Pokémon day-care and breeding center outside Goldenrod City, Johto, where I lived for six years of my life. **_

_**Aside from being an acclaimed breeder, my grandfather was also one of the most celebrated writers of his day. It was he who inspired me to write a memoir. I started writing it five years ago, and it is near completion. My plan is this: write an autobiography chronicling my life as a trainer and champion, and conclude my story with the events that led up to my running away. I will send my finished copy to a publisher, and no doubt the police will get involved. I am, after all, a wanted criminal. They would scan it for clues as to my whereabouts, but I'm not stupid. I will end my story without hinting once as to my location.**_

_**Puppy starts barking in a way he has not barked in years.**_


	2. Intro part II

_"**What is it, Puppy?" I say sounding worried. Puppy stood in attack-ready position at the front door, his agelessly white teeth in full view. The door handle creeks slowly, and I run to grab my revolver. I've had this gun stashed away in my desk since I started living here, waiting for this day. I have only touched it a handful of times to clean around it.**_

_**The handle takes another slow turn, and the door swings open. Puppy lets out a loud roar and knocks the young man at the door down. I run up and wave my pistol at the pinned man.**_

_"**Heel, Puppy!" I yell at the beast. He retreats slowly, and the man gasps for air, grabbing onto a table leg to regain his breath. Pistol still aimed at his forehead, I slam the door.**_

_"**Who the hell are you?" I demand.**_

_"**I **_**was**_** a man aimed at finding the greatest trainer in recent history", he says with a cocky look on his pale face. He had on a black casino hat, a faux-leather jacket and a pair of blue jeans covering his skinny legs. He looks just like a worthless henchman to a big-time criminal in the movies.**_

_"**I **_**intended**_** to come and go and leave it unmarked. Unfortunately, you've attacked and threatened me, and I cannot let this go untold," he says with a smirk. I put my hand on the trigger. I truly have no intention of killing this man; I have never been one for violence.**_

_"**If you kill me now, they'll come looking for me Mr. Cassidy" He sneered. I hate this man already, like some sneaky little shit you just want to put your foot in. He reminded me more of a Linoone than even a Linoone itself. (NOTE: I am comparing the man to a Linoone, a weasel-like Pokémon).**_

_"**If you let me go, however, I'll surely inform the authorities that you've attacked me, adding to your sentence. Looks like you're stuck cooperating" he concludes. I lower the gun and throw it to the floor. Puppy growls louder than before.**_

_"**Down, Puppy" I yell. He sits, and stares at the man on the floor. I notice his nose has started to bleed, and his jacket is torn. "Sit", I say to the Linoone.**_

_"**Thank you"**_

_"**What do you want from me? Money? You know as well as I that I have plenty of that. So name your fucking price. I want you to leave here quietly." I demand.**_

_"**We'll discuss money later," he says, "but my first intention is something much more valuable than even money." I stare him down without as much as a blink.**_

_"**I am a journalist, Mr. Cassidy. What I want is your story. Short or long, I am here to hear why the great Sean Cassidy abandoned it all to do something to cause him to disappear. If you give me this information, I will leave here and no one will know where you are. I will publish my article outside the country, where I can be untouched by the law for not telling your whereabouts. All I want, Mr. Cassidy, is your story.**_

_"**Is this possible? Does this man know of the book I've been writing? How long has he been following me?" These thoughts all race through my head. I slam my elbows onto the wooden table and bury my face in my hands. I need to think. Still believing that this man is aware of my book, I give him what he wants.**_

_"**You're in luck, Mr.—", I stop.**_

_"**My name is Richard Halberd," he adds, that goddamn smirk still scratched across his face. And what a cliché name for such a time; Dick.**_

_"**You're in luck, Mr. Halberd," I continue. "In the time I've been here, I've been writing a memoir of my life."**_

_"**I know more than you think, Sean." What makes him think he can address me by my first name? I hate this man. Regardless, my suspicions have been right; this son of a bitch has been watching me for God knows how long.**_

_"**I'd let this book go public, but there's no gain for me in that, is there?" he adds.**_

_"**I've done enough in my life, **_**Mister**_** Halberd," I say. I make sure I say 'Mr.' as sarcastically as possible. "What makes you believe I wouldn't blow your head off right here and now? Besides, don't you think the government has much bigger problems than investigating the unfortunate disappearence of yet another journalist?" I say. That was it, his smug smile finally faded, replaced with a displeased grimace. Honestly, wiping off that smirk was the only thing I hoped to achieve by that comment.**_

_**Alas, his smirk quickly returned. Dammit, I hate him.**_

_"**I don't think you have the guts to pull the trigger, or sick your dog on me, Sean." His smirk grows wider.**_

_"**And why is that? Do you think I would write a story and have my location remain secret? No, I wouldn't. I would be revealed the second that story reached police hands. I want to pay my dues**_** Mister **_** Halberd." I know this is a lie, I would never reveal my location. I'm too cowardly, to be honest. Regardless, my plan works. A look of shock crosses the Linoone's face. Oh, my mistake, that look is genuine fear. I have this bastard against the ropes.**_

_"**You're lying!" he insists, through his teeth. I smile. He backs up in his chair, and Puppy growls, this time a plume of smoke seeps from his nostrils.**_

_"**I'll give you your damn story" I say finally. I almost choke on the words. I couldn't kill this man if I needed to. His smirk half-returns, slightly covered by a still lingering hint of fear.**_

_"**I knew you'd cooperate," he says, feigning confidence. I head to the bedroom and emerge with a stack of papers.**_

_"**I'll read them to you, Dick," I say. The man looked surprised and annoyed all at once. He stands and hunches over the table, hands pressed firmly against the edge. "Just give me the damn papers, Mr. Cassidy. I don't have time for your—,"**_

_"**NO!" I scream as Puppy barks loudly, not allowing him finish. "You will listen to every sentence of this story before you even think of taking it for yourself." I pick up the revolver and point it at his head again. He sits down. Puppy snickers.**_

_**I sit down as well, and slam the papers on the table, shaking it. I am only reading my story to this man to allow me time to think of a plan. I refuse to let this son of a bitch leave with my memoirs, and my location. Aside from that, it gives me a good chance to proofread before I write the final chapter. "Now, tell me what you think…"**_


	3. Chapter 1

"**Pokéball, go!" I scream. I toss the red and white orb and it soars through the air, and falls like a rock. A white beam of light appears, and the ball returns to my hand as though it were a boomerang. The light fades, and a six-foot tall beast appears. The gargantuan blue monster lets out a cry, and charges the foe, two cannons protruding from its brown shell.**

"**Blastoise, surf attack now!" I shout to the monster. It obliges, and gallons upon gallons of water stream from the gleaming silver cannons onto the opposing creature. The opposition stands another six feet tall, with an almost entirely red feathered body. The beak on its face is the crowning feature.**

**The tidal wave crushes the Pokémon, sending it whipping along with the ensuing whirlpool.**

"**Blaziken, return!" I hear from a few yards away. A red beam of light appears and engulfs the Blaziken, returning it to it master's Pokéball. I stare at the man wielding the ball, but I do not see a face, only a distraught frown. Suddenly, the frown turns and grins excitedly.  
"Go, Torterra!" he shouts proudly, throwing another Pokéball. The white light manifests a new monster, bigger than the others. This mammoth creature sprouts a tree on its back, and lets out a roar that shakes the earth. The faceless man raises his right hand and points at his Pokémon.**

"**Torterra, solarbeam!" he beckons. White energy from seemingly nowhere pours into the beast's back as it opens its mouth. An orb of energy grows in the mouth, waiting to be unleashed.**

"**Blastoise, RUN!" I scream, but to no avail. The opposing behemoth lets out another roar, and the white light engulfs the Blastoise and myself together as I scream in agony…**

**I woke up with an enormous scream. "Another dream?" I thought to myself. At ten years old, were dreams supposed to be that intense? I gathered my thoughts…**


	4. Chapter 2

"**WAIT," I yell to no one, "today is Saturday!" I put on a pair of brown shorts, slammed my door and ran down the hall. My mother was in the living room watching the news.**

"**Is it on?" I demanded.**

"**After this commercial, Sean. I tried to wake you up an hour ago but you wouldn't budge," she giggles. My mother was a beautiful young woman, almost scarlet hair down past her shoulders. Despite her natural hair color, her face was void of any freckles at all, donning a perfect complexion.**

"**Well you should have tried again; I hate missing this show!" I said irritated. The commercials ended, and I listened intently to the television.**

"**Good morning, Goldenrod! I'm Dr. Blue Oak and this is Pokémon League Weekly" the anchor began. Though we lived in New Bark Town, a good two hour drive from Goldenrod City, we picked up the Goldenrod TV stations. The next nearest communication district was in Celadon City, Kanto. Dr. Blue Oak was the grandson of the legendary Pokémon researcher Dr. Samuel Oak. He had taken over his grandfather's position at Pokémon League Weekly when the original Professor passed away ten years before, in the same year I was born. The Pokémon League Weekly episodes were partially recorded live at Dr. Oak's laboratory in Pallet Town, Kanto, and were simulcast on all major news stations across the nation. The other part of the show consisted of recordings of major events in the Pokémon world.**

"**Today, we will abandon our regular routine and show a tape, recorded late last night, of the Governing Board of the Pokémon League making an important announcement to all new trainers" Dr. Oak continued. Whenever the Board had something to say, it was always crucial. And today, it involved me, as I was to obtain my Pokémon Training license in just two months, on my tenth birthday. My ears perked up like a Skitty's and I began to listen even closer.**

**The broadcast began…**


	5. Chapter 3

"**Greetings all upcoming and veteran trainers alike. We have interrupted the regular broadcast of Pokémon League Weekly to bring forth this crucial decision regarding License requirements. Up until today, and for the last fifty years, the age requirement for becoming a novice level trainer has been ten years of age. However, the board has elected to raise this age. This decision was brought forth due to recent—,"**

**I screamed. Dammit, I was only two months away from obtaining my license and those bastards were going to take my dream from me.**

"**Mom, they can't do that!" I cried.**

"**Hush, just listen." She snapped back.**

"**But its not like we're doing anything dangerous," I said, ignoring her and choking on tears, "you go to a stupid school for two years before you get to do any real training!"**

"**I know Sean, but just 'shh' for now. I want to hear." She replied. I shut up.**

"…**Due to the preceding issues, and a two-thirds vote by the Board, the age for obtaining a license will be raised to fourteen years of age, thus allowing only those sixteen years of age or older to become full-fledged trainers. In conclusion, all trainers who have recently received their licenses are exempt from this decision, and will continue their train—,"**

**I screamed again, this time sounding like something I wouldn't hear the likes of for another six years; grueling pain and agony.**

**I remained in my room for days, coming out only to eat and use the bathroom. I hardly said anything to my parents or anyone else. I think I would have skipped school had I not been on a break. Finally, after days locked alone sobbing, my father walked into my room.**

"**Hey," he said simply, "how's it going?"**


	6. Chapter 4

**I didn't often see my father. He worked as a police officer in Violet City during the day. When he arrived home, I was often already asleep. He'd come in and ruffle my hair a bit to make sure I was asleep. All that ever did was wake me up. "Goodnight, dad" I would say groggily.**

"**Goodnight" he would respond. He was never a man of many words, entirely unlike his father, an accomplished writer who owned the Pokémon Day Care and Breeding Center in Goldenrod City. It was living in that environment growing up, and having a father who seemingly cared for his Pokémon more than him, that made my father grow to dislike the idea of Pokémon or Pokémon training. In fact, up until that night, my father had scoffed whenever I said I wanted to be a trainer when I grew older. My mother was supportive, my father was not. Regardless, I always longed for his acceptance.**

"**How do you think it's going?" I shouted; my head buried in my knees. "I have to wait another four years to start! Why does this have to happen?" I started crying again. I had just stopped a couple hours earlier, and now I was a fucking waterfall all over again.**

"**That's what I'm here to talk to you about", he said with a sigh. He inched closer to me and rested his hand on my head as he had done nearly every night for my entire life. The keychain attached to his blue police uniform jingled in an also similar fashion. This was an emotion I had never heard in my dad's voice; sadness. I perked my head out from between my kneecaps, now curious.**

"**Your mom and I talked about it… and I finally gave in. I just want you to be happy, Sean, and I really think it's a good idea," he said. I could see tears gleaming in his eyes. Real tears. My dad was one of the most solid people I've ever seen, even to this day. "If you want, and I really mean this, you can live with my parents at the Breeding Center for a while." He said. Before he even finished the sentence, I jumped on him and hugged him like I had never done before. Even more tears poured from my eyes, probably leaving a permanent wet mark on my dad's uniform. The opportunity to learn all about Pokémon firsthand from one of the greatest breeders in the country, my grandfather, had just landed in my lap. My dad left the room, and I packed my things. All redundancy aside, I was still crying like a fucking two year-old.**


End file.
